


Return of the Under Butler

by Ariel_Tempest



Category: Downton Abbey, Downton Wars
Genre: Completely out of character, Gen, Kinda Stupid Really, Parody, Pineapples, Ridiculous, Star Wars - Freeform, The Princess Bride References, what's a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2018-12-30 04:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12101055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariel_Tempest/pseuds/Ariel_Tempest
Summary: Just when you thought it was safe to hold dinner parties again, Sith Lord Thomas is back.





	1. Darth Barrow and Darth Bates

**Author's Note:**

> If you have not watched the original Downton Wars, do. Set aside a bit of time (it's short), get too much sugar and caffeine, and have a good laugh. Not only will this thing make marginally more sense than it would otherwise, but you owe it to yourself. Then consider supporting the cause, because She compels you to.
> 
> I'm leaving this as an open, multi-chapter work, not because I have grand plans for it (I have no plans for it, beyond what I have here), but because you never know when I'll feel the need to add more. 
> 
> Last, but not least, I can not take credit for the awesome Sith names. I was once part of a challenge where we made Sith names by taking real words with an 'in' prefix (example: Invader) and swapped the 'in' for 'Darth' creating a name (example: Darth Vader). Some of the results were so awesome, I needed to pay tribute to them here.

The night was still, or it should have been at any rate. It was almost everywhere, with the notable of exception of the Bates's cottage. There the stillness gave way before the sound of an incessantly tossing body and very quiet whimpering. The whimpering crescendoed until it became a sudden yelp of alarm. There was a sound of muffled protest, a soft click, and the bed, its occupants, and the immediately surrounding area was lit with lamplight.   
Anna Bates, Sith Lord, rolled over and gave her husband a look that hung in delicate balance between concerned and annoyed. "Are you alright?"

It took a moment before Mr. Bates, sitting bolt upright and staring across the room, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the fact it was rather chilly, replied. When he did, his voice was shaky. "Yes," he assured her with a tight smile. "Yes, it was just a bad dream. A very bad..." he trailed off, looking across the room and making a strangled whining sound.

His wife narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Don't tell me this bad dream was caused by some sort of disturbance in the force."

"Actually-"

"I said don't!" With a look that booked no argument, Anna flopped back down in bed and crossed her arms. "I'll not have any of that Jedi nonsense, John. I can feel the Force as well as you can. I'd know if there was a some sort of disturbance. It's just your irritable bowl syndrome again, now go back to sleep."

Mr. Bates looked down at her, but he didn't make any motion to lay back down himself. "Anna, would you please just give me my light saber back? I'd feel so much better if I had it."

"No. I will not have you ignoring me again, just so you can play champion of the world."

Her husband flinched at that one.

"Besides, I got rid of it, so I couldn't give it back if I wanted to. Now," Anna reached over and clicked the lamp back off. "Go back to sleep."

There was a sigh, a slight whine, and a creak as her husband lay back down. She listened to his breathing slowly even out into the hush of sleep, then lay glaring into the darkness. She could feel the Force as well as he could, could feel the disturbance running through it, and she was no more pleased than he was.

 

What on earth was Thomas doing back at Downton?

* * *

It was raining. Anna stepped briskly up the path from the cottages, dodging puddles as she went. Mr. Bates had, predictably, stayed behind to 'look for something'. She didn't have to ask what the something was. There was no question in her mind that he was looking for his stupid light saber. Really, he kept whimpering about how hurt he was that she'd joined the Dark Side, but had he ever stopped to consider her feelings? If he hadn't kept going on about the Jedi and his stupid light saber and his stupid cape and ignoring her, she'd have stayed out of the whole mess all together. As it was, he'd paid more attention to Thomas than he had to her, if you stopped and thought about it, and that was just too insulting for words. She was his wife, for crying out loud! She should be much more important than driving out one upstart Sith Lord.

Admittedly, things had been a lot quieter with Thomas gone. Even she couldn't argue that. Which was why the disturbance running through the Force made her glower into the surrounding gloom as much as her husband's whimpering about his light saber. 

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Bates?" a muffled voice asked from behind her as she laid her hand on the door to the servant's entrance. She spun around and went to pull her own lightsaber from the hidden pocket in her skirt, only to realize that the pocket was on the other side and she couldn't pull it out because she was holding an umbrella. She rapidly switched the umbrella over to the other hand and retrieved the lightsaber. All the while the figure who had addressed her leaned against the nearby wall, watching her with an air of amusement. "That looks inconvenient."

"Thomas," Anna grimaced. "What are you doing back here?" As she took in his appearance, her grimace changed to a look of utter consternation. "And what on earth are you wearing? A cape?"

"Yes, it's a cape," the other Sith Lord replied. "Of course it's a cape."

"Why?"

"Because it's chilly."

Anna rolled her eyes as far as they could possibly go. She was pretty certain she strained an eye muscle doing it. "The term is 'cool' and no it isn't!"

"No, I don't mean it looks good," Thomas informed her with what probably an eye roll of his own, but it was impossible to tell since he was wearing a mask. "I mean the sun's not up and it's raining. This thing's surprisingly warm."

Well. There wasn't much arguing that point. It did, at least, look like good, solid wool. "And the mask?"

"If you kept up on Sith fashion, you'd know they're all the rage right now."

"It looks ridiculous."

"Perhaps, but it's very handy. Observe." He drew his own lightsaber out from under the cape and turned it on. "The rain is not in my face and I have both hands free."

Anna really didn't like admitting he had a point, particularly when it came to something so ludicrous looking, but again she couldn't argue. "But are you going to wear it inside?" she pressed.

"I don't think so, no. It cuts into your peripheral vision and even with your loving husband subdued, there are an awful lot of Jedi running around."

"Ah yes," Anna made use of the fact that she wasn't wearing a mask to smirk at him. "Mr. Bates told me you'd been run off by a pair of old women."

"I was not run off by a pair of old women," Thomas huffed, probably in indignation, but possibly also because it was hard to breathe in that mask. "I was run off by a pair of old women with lightsabers! There's a difference. Besides, one of them was the Dowager Countess. The Force is strong with that one."

Anna snorted. "Everything's strong with that one. Her farts are probably strong."

"All of the more reason to avoid her and keep upwind."

"So what brings you back here?" Anna asked again. "Heaven knows you've not been missed."

"Well there's a nice greeting for someone who's just trying to help you." Thomas went to cross his arms, then realized his lightsaber was still on. He turned it off, then crossed his arms. "According to Darth Nuendo you're about to be outnumbered three to one."

"According to who?" Anna gawked at him. She was certain she'd never met a Darth Nuendo. She'd never met a Darth anyone, but particularly not a Darth Nuendo. She'd remember someone with a name that absurd.

"Another trend you seem to have missed," Thomas clicked his tongue at her. "To hide our identities from the Jedi, Sith have started changing their names. Darth is a title, like Mr.or Mrs., then you choose whatever you want for the second part."

"And what's Darth Nuendo's real name?"

"Oh, that's Jimmy. I bumped into him while I was in London and he filled me in on all of the latest, after I'd told the little sod off for never writing."

Anna gave him a look of patent disbelief. "And on the word of Darth Jimmy Nuendo, you bought a cape and a mask? What, have you changed your name to Darth Dubitably while you were at it?"

"Don't be ridiculous, everyone knows who I am already. No need to change my name much, Darth Barrow will do." Thomas shrugged. "At any rate, names aside, it turns out that Lady Edith is studying with the Jedi in London, so you're going to have another one on your hands soon. That's four, total, unless you've managed to convert your husband." He paused, then added, "Hope you haven't. He'd make a rubbish Sith."

It was true. Even worse, if Mr. Bates became a Sith, he'd probably go back to ignoring her in favor of chasing his enemies, and this time there would be more of them. She grimaced. "I've taken care of Mr. Bates," she assured him. "While doesn't mean I'm just going to let you come waltzing back in here and take over."

"Instead you're going to let Lady Edith come waltzing in here and take over?" he asked. "Two to four is better odds than three to one."  
She wished he'd stop having points. She really, really didn't like it when Darth Thomas Stick-it-up-your-jacket Barrow had points. Before she could answer, however, the door behind her opened.

"There you are, Anna," Mr. Carson greeted her from the doorway. "We were getting worried."

"Sorry, Mr. Carson," Anna smiled, quickly hiding her lightsaber from view. "I was just having a conversation with Thomas." She nodded to the other Sith in his cape and mask and waited to see how the butler responded. 

Mr. Carson took in the younger man's outlandish getup with an absolutely affronted expression. "Thomas? You've a lot of gall coming back here after simply vanishing the way you did. I've had to do three entire dinner parties with just Andrew because Molsley was too busy playing teacher to make it. What have you to say for yourself?"

"Why Mr. Carson, I didn't just vanish," Thomas purred, his hand waving through the air. "You sent me to London, remember?"

The butler blinked. The butler blinked again. His expression cleared up. "Of course. I sent you to London. How silly of me." He looked the younger man ove again and his face folded back into a scowl. "Well you're not wearing that to work. Get in here and get changed into your livery. And Anna, do hurry. Lady Mary will be up soon."

"Of course, Mr. Carson."


	2. The Meaning of Things

His light saber was not under the bed. 

He had checked under the bed no fewer than ten times that week and his light saber wasn't there. There was absolutely no point in getting down on his good knee, peering under the bed, and then having to work his way back up to a standing position. 

Mr. Bates looked under the bed.

His light saber still wasn't there. 

With a sigh, he leaned on the bed and levered himself slowly up. It was no use, he'd searched everywhere. He'd looked in the closets, the cupboards, he'd even thoroughly examined the chimney to see if Anna had stuck it up there. His light saber was nowhere in the cabin.

He couldn't believe she'd actually destroyed it. She might be angry at him, but she still loved him too much to do that. Admittedly, he believed her when she said she'd burned his cape, but a cape was cloth. A light saber was something more. It was practically part of the Jedi that held it, and extension of their being. 

"It has to be someplace," he muttered.

"How about the loo?" a brash voice asked from behind him. "Have you checked down there? Huh?"

He grimaced, doing his best to ignore the voice. 

"If you were smart, that would have been the first place you looked!"

"No, Mr. Pineapple," he replied. "She wouldn't put it there. That would clog the pluming."

"Bah! Who cares about the pluming? Check the loo!"

Light saber or no light saber, declining Jedi powers or not, John Bates refused to look down the loo, particularly on the advice of a spiky piece of fruit. At a loss for what else to do, he checked the closet again.

* * *

"How long do we have, do you know?" Anna asked, keeping her voice as low as possible. She and Thomas were seated at the table in the servant's hall. He looked reassuringly normal without the ridiculous cape and mask, although his hand kept slipping inside his jacket, as if checking to make certain his light saber was still there. Of course, he was paranoid enough, he might just expect her to try nicking it.

"Not long, I'd imagine. Darth Nuendo says she's been studying with a great Jedi master, although why she went all the way to London when the Dowager is here, I don't know. Seems she'd want to teach her own granddaughter. Then again, maybe she considers teaching below her dignity."

"She might, but Mrs. Crawley certainly wouldn't."

"Perhaps Lady Edith considered being taught by a middle class biddy beneath her dignity," Thomas smirked. All it earned him was a glare. Seeing that Anna clearly was not impressed by his humor, he shrugged and returned to the initial question. "We should have a week or two, though, I'd imagine. Enough time to come up with some sort of plan." All innocence he asked, "How is Mr. Bates doing?"

"His powers are declining," Anna grumbled, expression blackening. "And I've buried his light saber in the garden, although he's still looking for it. Really, all we've been through and he cares more about the stupid Jedi than he does me, I swear it."

"Then leave the tosser," Thomas suggested brightly. "Get a divorce. Tell the court he was cheating on you with a entire council of full of themselves snobs."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

The other Sith gave it a moment's serious thought, then replied, "Yeah, actually, I would. And it would give us one less Jedi to worry about. His powers may be declining, but you know he'll find a way to get under foot."

"I'm not leaving my husband." Anna sat back, with a huff and folded her arms over her chest. "Once his powers fail completely, he'll get over it."

"Hope so for your sake," Thomas shrugged, not sounding like he really meant it. "Still, even without Bates, it's going to be three of them against two of us. Best thing we could do is find a way to make up the numbers."

Anna eyed him suspiciously. "You're not going to be able to get Darth Jimmy rehired."

"Course not," Thomas rolled his eyes. "He's got himself a good gig now anyway. Plays piano at an upscale jazz club. Pay's not much, I gather, but no worse than footmen and the women love him." He might have sounded a bit discontent at that last part. "But couldn't we find someone here to turn to the Dark Side? Lady Mary, perhaps?"

"Lady Mary?" Anna stared at him, trying to imagine the oldest of the Crawley sisters wielding a light saber and facing off against her sister and grandmother. 

Actually, if she thought about it, it sounded like an average Crawley dinner. 

Before she could reply, though, a familiar whining came down the hallway. It sounded like John had finally decided to put in an appearance for work. Preceded by his whining and the click of his walking stick, Mr. Bates entered the servant's hall. "Anna, whose cape is hanging in the entry-" His eyes lit on Thomas and he stopped cold. "Sith Lord Thomas."

"Actually, it's Darth Barrow," Thomas informed him, smirking.

Bates frowned. "Darth? What does 'Darth' mean?"

"It's a title, like mister, only more impressive." 

"Are you certain that's what it means?" Bates countered, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Thomas contrived to look wounded. "What, you don't think I know what I'm talking about?"

"Probably not. You Sith never mean what you think you mean."

"Excuse me?" Anna inserted herself quite forcefully into the conversation. Her tone and glare left her husband quailing.

"Except you, my darling angel," Mr. Bates amended.

Thomas took in the whole exchange with an amused expression. "Clearly, you've never talked to Darth Conceivable. He always means what he think he means."

"That doesn't mean you do. What are you doing back here anyway?"

"What, are you going to tell the Dowager on me?" Thomas asked. "A pair of old women isn't going to keep me out. And confess, Bates, you missed me, didn't you?"

"Like I miss my late wife," Bates replied flatly. "The only things I miss are my light saber and my cape." He turned his attention back to his current wife. "Speaking of which, whose cape is that in the entry?"

Stiffly, to prove that she still hadn't forgiven him for his earlier slight, Anna replied, "It's Darth Barrow's."

"What?" Mr. Bates squawked. "Thomas gets a cape, but I don't?"

"Thomas isn't my husband!" Anna snapped back. "And he doesn't wear it to look cool and, you will note, he absolutely doesn't wear it in the house. Therefore, yes, he gets a cape and you don't. Now, you're late to work, so his Lordship will be wanting you any minute." As if the man in question had heard her, the bell board rang. "There, you see? Now you go and get him dressed."

Bates hesitated, sulking.

"Come on, chop chop!" Anna chided, standing as the bell for Lady Mary's room rang. "If I have to work, so do you." 

With a sigh and a parting glare for Thomas, Mr. Bates turned and made his way upstairs. Anna followed him, exchanging her own parting glance with the other Sith. They would talk more later.


End file.
